


I Wear This On My Sleeve

by Dorksidefiker



Category: Transformers - All Media Types, Transformers: Prime
Genre: Breakdown Lives AU, Breakdown and Knock Out Join The Autobots AU, F/F, M/M, Most of what changes vs what doesn't will be revealed in story over time, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Season 3 AU, Uncomfortable living situations, troubling unchildlike behavior
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-09-05
Updated: 2017-10-31
Packaged: 2018-12-24 10:43:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 9,989
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12011067
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dorksidefiker/pseuds/Dorksidefiker
Summary: The Autobots are packed in like sardines in their new home, MECH is being a pain in the aft, and Raf's mother wants him to spend more time with his sister because he disappeared for three weeks and she worries.There's no way this doesn't end with something blowing up.A Breakdown Lives! (and he and Knock Out Join the Autobots) season 3 AU.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> For someone who claims to hate Stupid Human Drama in her Giant Alien Robot Shows, I sure do seem to write a lot of it.
> 
> I blame it on the fact that TFP made Raf and his family so interesting to me, then never DID anything with them.

If Raf had been paying better attention, he might have noticed the worried frowns his mother was turning on him with increasing regularity. He might even have been able to nip the plan she was forming in the bud. But there were so many bigger, more interesting draws on his attention -- like helping track down Predicon bones, or watching Wheeljack needle Ultra Magnus, or learning to read Cybertronian, or waiting to see if Breakdown and/or Knock Out was finally going to snap and flick Miko into a wall -- that he didn’t realize anything was happening at home until Mama asked him to help with the clean up after dinner.

Mama _never_ asked for help with the clean up unless she wanted to _talk_.

She set Raf up with a stack of clean dish towels to dry with, and she waited to speak until the sink was filled with hot, green apple scented soapy water.

“I am told, Rafael, that with the recent… unpleasantness… that the high school has chosen to close it’s clubs for the rest of the year.”

There was something about this way his mother kept her voice so carefully level that made Raf’s hair stand on end. Mama had been so careful, so _solicitous_ of him since he’d come back from his impromptu road trip with Bee. He should have _known_ it was leading up to something.

And now the other shoe was gonna drop, cause now he couldn’t use the computer club as an excuse for where he was all the time, and-

“Mrs. Darby tells me that you have been soldiering on nicely despite the loss of formal structure.” Mama rested a (wet, soapy) hand on Raf’s head, gamely attempting to smooth down his hair. “You have always been so independent. Your Papa and I are so very proud of you, you know that, yes?”

“Yes, Mama,” Raf said meekly. He’d have to do something _really_ nice for Mrs. Darby for saving his baccon.

“ _But_ -”

Oh no.

“I am… not so comfortable with the idea of you without someone who can be… responsible for you. If something happens again.”

“ _Jack’s_ very responsible,” Raf said quickly.

“Yes, but if… if the town should…” Her hands were shaking as she passed Raf the dinner plates. “I want to know that you are with someone who might think to call me, at least. I know, in times of emergency, small things like phones can be lost, but...”

“Mama…”

She shook herself, and started scrubbing at a bit of stuck on cheese with renewed vigor. “So! Pilar will be going with you after school from here on.”

Oh _no_. “Is that really necessary? Mrs. Darby-”

“Is a wonderful woman who works all the hours God has given her, and then some.” There was a finality to Mama’s tone that brooked no argument. “But she cannot be in two places at once.”

“But doesn’t Pilar have-” What _did_ his sister do in the afternoon? She hung out with her friends….

Who had all been in the drama club.

_Oh._

And none of them had been around the house lately, had they? Not that Pilar and her friends spent that much time at the Esquivel house (the MacDouglas house was a better rehearsal space, from what Raf had picked up), but the horde was _still_ a constant presence, either coming or going. Or at least, they had been before Megatron had wrecked Jasper.

How many families had decided not to come back after the evacuation? His parents had talked long and hard about pulling up stakes and going somewhere else, but ultimately Papa had decided that there was no way they could afford a house with _this_ many bedrooms closer to the lab, even with the generous resettlement offer the US government had made to anyone who didn’t want to call Jasper home anymore.

Raf had never been so glad that Papa hated change.

Mama gave Raf one of those looks -- _You’ve figured it out! Good. Keep up._ “Your sister has been spending much of her time moping at the MacDouglas girl’s house.” She hummed thoughtfully. “Perhaps you should invite her, too. She is a good girl, but she needs people to bring her out of herself.”

Raf bit down on a groan. _Now_ she cared? _Now_ Mama had to start paying attention? How was he gonna fix _this_?

“Yes, Mama.”

“Such a good boy.” Mama inspected the dishes Raf had been drying with an approving nod. “A good job, but now it is time for homework, mm?”

Rad laid aside the now damp dish towel he’d been using, mind racing. Bee, Jack, Agent Fowler - he’d call them in that order. They’d come up with something…

Raf was so caught up in his own thoughts as he escaped the kitchen that he didn’t really notice Pilar at the dining room table until she spoke.

“Y’know, I can’t _wait_ to meet whoever it is who drives that sweet muscle car.”

Raf had stared down faceless Decepticons, mad warlords, and metal devouring terrors, but somehow there was something in his sister’s voice that managed to make his blood run cold.

Pilar was watching him, her chin resting in the palm of her hand and her lips curved into something that might have passed for a smile on anyone else. Raf, however, knew that look. It was one she wore whenever she was about to do something _really_ nasty to someone. Like the time three of Vince’s tires had been popped the day after he’d dumped paint thinner on the drama club’s wardrobe chest, or when she’d ratted Jaime out for sneaking out at night.

Abuelo had often called Pilar the sly one when he’d still been alive, and Raf found himself wondering just what she already knew.

He dismissed the thought as quickly as it had come. Pilar was just messing with him. He returned her smirk with a flat “Goodnight, Pilar,” and retreated to his room.

It was time to start planning.

* * *

 

Raf wasn’t at all happy about having to give up any of his time with Bee, but there would have been no way to explain a driverless car… or Agent Fowler… driving him to school. Not in a way that wouldn’t had ended with being grounded forever.

No, in order to pull this off, he was going to have to carpool. At least until they found a way to ditch Pilar.

Miko, when she’d been brought in on the planning, had suggested just leaving school without her. It had taken Raf a long time to explain _exactly_ why that was the worst plan ever, starting with how Pilar would _tell_ and ending with Raf being grounded for life.

Miko was an only child. She just didn’t _get_ these things.

So for the time being, Raf would be carpooling with Miko and Bulkhead.

Raf had hoped that he’d get picked up early enough that he’d be able to go over battle plans with Miko and Bulkhead; none of his sisters had ever been early risers or fast dressers in his experience. Unfortunately, it seemed Pilar was determined to thwart him. She was up, dressed, and almost awake by the time Raf was heading out the door, and she wasted no time in following.

Raf could feel the air vibrating with the base of his speakers long before Bulkhead rolled into view, window rattling Bulgarian thrash metal making his teeth shake as he got closer.

Raf risked a sidelong glance at Pilar, glad that his parents were both already at work. He didn’t relish the idea of explaining Miko to Mama.

Pilar looked… well, Raf couldn’t really tell if she was disappointed, or just half asleep. She did manage a slightly puzzled “Jng?” as Bulkhead rolled to a surprisingly gentle stop in front of them.

Raf scrambled up to the passenger door -- _Oh God please let Miko remember to look like she’s driving!_ \-- and was relieved to find the seat empty, with Miko attempting to look like she knew what she was doing behind Bulkhead’s steering column.

He was already buckled in by the time Pilar managed to climb her way into the back. Apparently, chunky heels and Bulkhead didn’t mix. “Thought your other friend picked you up in the morning.”

“He’s sick,” Raf supplied quickly, raising his voice to be heard over what he was pretty sure were Bulgarian obscenities. “Pretty bad. Gonna be down at _least_ a week.”

That would buy them a little time.

Pilar (thank God, Primus, and anyone else that might have had a hand in it) didn’t press further. Instead, she fussed over the state of her tights and ignored them while Miko pretended to drive.

One song shrieked into another, the new one opening with a guitar solo that made Pilar jump in her seat.

“You like metal?” Miko shouted over the racket.

“ _No_.”

“Your loss!” Miko’s head started to bob violently to the beat.

“Eyes on the road!” Raf hissed, hoping Pilar was too distracted to notice how steady the ride was still was despite Miko’s erratic movements.

“Ooh, right. Sorry.” Miko switched off the stereo and resumed the fakest looking driving position Raf had ever seen.

Was thirteen too young to get ulcers?

The rest of the ride passed with Miko peppering Pilar with questions and getting only tired grunts in return. She practically rolled out of Bulkhead as soon as he stopped, shouldering her bag and waiting.

Pilar finally looked fully awake, and something about her expression worried Raf deeply.

“Twenty bucks a week, and I forget all about Mama’s stupid idea.”

Of course that would be her game. “That’s my whole allowance!”

“That’s why I’m not charging you fifty.”

Miko put herself between Raf and his sister, jabbing a finger at Pilar’s chest. “That’s blackmail.”

“No, it’s _extortion_.” Pilar batted Miko’s hand aside. “Blackmail would be demanding money to keep me from telling Mama that I was ditched after school and I have no idea where Raf is.” Pilar’s smile was all teeth and no warmth. “Twenty dollars, Rafael. I expect your answer by last bell.”

With that, she flounced off. She was good at flouncing; Raf knew she practiced it at home constantly.

“Your sister is a witch with a capital B,” Miko growled.

Raf could only groan in agreement.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which we see the condition of the Autobots, MECH, and some people who take pictures of things they probably shouldn't.

Knock Out rested a servo on his cocked hip, a paint blistering glare turned on Optimus. "Have we been anything less than loyal since we joined up?" he demanded.

"No," Optimus was forced to agree. Cantankerous, sarcastic, and frequently at odds with the rest of the team and Agent Fowler, but at no point had Knock Out or Breakdown shown themselves to be _disloyal_.

And there had certainly been abundant opportunities for both of them to betray the Autobots in the days since Knock Out had come to them dragging a badly maimed Breakdown with him.. They could have rejoined their former comrades during the battle for the Omega Lock, or aided in the invasion of Jasper, or even just slipped away after Megatron destroyed the old base and not returned. Instead, they had come back, fought back, and and helped to end Megatron's attempt to make Earth his new domain before it could truly begin.

Optimus knew that it hadn't been because they had no place else to go, even if the two former Decepticons might still insist that that was the case. Breakdown was as fully recovered from his disastrous encounter with Airachnid as he could be, and was almost as adept with the claw as he had been with the servo he'd lost. Knock Out and Breakdown were both survivors, and could have easily gone rogue and evaded Autobots and Decepticons alike.

They had made a choice.

"So why is it we're not allowed even a _modicum_ of privacy?"

That was just one of any number of issues plaguing them at the moment, but Optimus was willing to concede that it felt like the most pressing. The old base had been generously proportioned, if somewhat primitive by Cybertronian standards, and its underground location had allowed for expansion without risk of detection. When it had been just five Autobots in the pace, it had felt almost painfully empty.

The hanger, on the other hand... was not.

As glad as Optimus was to have increased their numbers, their new base had never been meant to house anyone quite so large as Ultra Magnus (not to mention Optimus himself), let alone ten Cybertronians.

Even Optimus was finding the situation claustrophobic.

"We are working to expand with all speed, Knock Out."

The lower levels of the old missile silo might still be reclaimed, if they were undamaged. It was getting the rubble cleared and building a connecting tunnel between the hanger and the old base that was taking time, even with Breakdown's considerable expertise at excavation helping to clear the way.

Meanwhile, they were all beginning to grate on each other's nerves. Knock Out more than most.

"I don't see why you don't just tell Fowler to evict the fleshies from another hanger or two."

Optimus resisted the urge to ex-vent. "We are guests here, Knock Out. Agent Fowler has done his best to secure accommodations for us, and he must answer to others for every concession that we are given. We cannot just take what we want."

"We need room for a proper laboratory, if nothing else-" An argument that Ratchet himself had made to Optimus no more than a few hours ago. He knew that Ratchet and Knock Out were collaborating to secure themselves quarters within the proposed laboratory and medbay; after all, as medics and scientists they would need quick access to both their patients and their experiments. If that meant that they no longer had to share recharge space with the rest of the team (barring Breakdown, of course), it was a sacrifice they were willing to make.

The lob ball hurtled from one end of the hanger to the other, nearly crashing into Bumblebee's helm and sending the normally easy going scout off on a tirade that made even Knock Out pause in his wheedling.

"You might _suggest_ to Fowler that giving us another hanger might save on the property damage. I'm sure that would make his bosses very happy indeed." Knock Out flicked a talon in the direction of the lob ball, which had, in the end, gone crashing in to a wall with enough force to break concrete.

It was not the only dent in the hanger walls.

"I will take it under advisement," Optimus said gravely.

Knock Out made a rude noise, and from where he sat attempting to direct the building of a functional ground bridge, Ultra Magnus raised his head, mouth opening to deliver what would no doubt be a blistering reprimand about the respect due one's commanding officer.

Knock Out was saved from the lecture by Bulkhead's return, racing through the doors and transforming the moment he was inside. "It's worse than we thought!"

That drew all the attention to Bulkhead, even from Ratchet, who was still attempting to cobble together a functional computer system to run their defenses and the ground bridge.

Only the necessity of flying transport had saved Wheeljack and Ultra Magnus's ships from being taken for parts, and even _that_ was because Wheeljack had threatened to shove a grenade down Ratchet's intake if he so much as _looked_ at the Jackhammer funny.

Bumblebee rounded on Bulkhead, demanding an explanation. The scout had been especially on edge since Rafael's call the night before, and Knock Out had not been helpful in the least, deriding the entire thing as _ridiculous fleshie drama._

Not that finding it ridiculous prevented Knock Out from having opinions that he shared freely and often, at least until Breakdown could find something to distract him.

"She wants Raf to give up his whole allowance so she won't come with him in the afternoons. Or so she won't tell that she's not coming with him. That part wasn't really clear."

"Sounds like a real charmer," Wheeljack drawled. "Just Doc Knock's type."

"Leave me out of this."

"Aw c'mon," Breakdown took up the teasing. "Don't you want a squishy of your very own? Someone you can cart around day in, day out. They can help you sneak in to drive ins."

"The last thing I need is a _pet_ ," Knock Out snapped.

"Guys, this is _serious_!" Bulkhead insisted, dragging his servos down his face plate.

"It is a serious matter," Optimus agreed, "but it is also one where our direct intervention will only make things worse."

"Why not bring the little fleshie here?" Knock Out asked. "A little shock and awe, put the fear of Primus into it and send it on it's way."

After a moment of horrified silence, Bumblebee began explaining in detail why that was a terrible idea, starting with how one should not go around scaring humans, and ending with _and if anything happens to Pilar, Raf's mom would never let him out of the house again._

Ultra Magnus snapped out a " _Language_ , soldier!" twice before conceding the field of battle. Even Breakdown looked impressed.

Optimus reset his vocalizer. "While I do not share Bumblebee's opinion on what Knock Out should do with his rotary buffer, he is correct. We do not go about terrorizing children because they are presenting us with an inconvenience. Rafael knows the situation best, and we shall follow his lead."

* * *

 

The twenty Jack slipped him felt heavy in Raf's pocket, which he knew was physically impossible.

_Don't worry, we'll figure something out._

There was, of course, one very obvious solution to the problem. He could bring Pilar to the Autobot base. He could tell her everything.

He just didn't _want_ to tell her everything.

The Autobots were something Raf didn't have to share with any of his family, and he wanted to keep it that way.

It was stupid. It was selfish. It was going to cost him.

There was no way Raf was telling Pilar _anything._

As Raf emerged from the school building, surrounded by a river of his classmates eager to flee for the day, he was given a reminder that there were actually _good_ reasons not to tell Pilar anything.

One of them was the only other member of the drama club left.

Gruoch MacDouglas was the only reason Vince never got revenge on Pilar for popping his tires. Mama called her a sturdy girl; Raf thought she looked like a linebacker. In any case, she was big enough to make Vince keep his distance, and Pilar rarely went anywhere without her towering meat shadow.

They'd beaten him outside; Pilar was pretending to be engrossed by her phone while Gruoch loomed over her, casual as a well fed guard dog.

For a moment, Gruoch's eyes met Raf's, then she dropped her chin and nudged Pilar.

Pilar glanced up from her phone, peering at Raf over the top of her glasses. "So?" she asked, clearly already bored.

Raf dragged himself down the steps, stopping just short of his sister and putting on a glare he'd learned from Ratchet. Reluctantly, he fished the twenty from his pocket and held it out to Pilar.

For a moment, she almost looked disappointed.

Then the twenty vanished from his hand, passed from Pilar to Gruoch, disappearing into the pocket of her olive drab army jacket.

"We meet on the corner of Montgomery and Fourth at nine forty-five. Do _not_ be late." Pilar snapped her phone shut. "If Mama calls, I'm out getting pizza. If she calls again, don't answer until you've talked to me. Capisce?"

Raf nodded, surprised that Pilar had actually thought this through. In his experience, she tended to take things as they came, sometimes outright refusing to make set plans.

"Good. Anything happens, you call me." She tugged at the hem of her skirt, chasing away imagined wrinkles. "We're done here."

And away she flounced, Gruoch trailing after, a little smirk tugging at the tall girl's mouth. "Pilar, you are _awful._ "

* * *

 

"We believe it's the one they call Bumblebee, sir. The paint job is different, but the underlying build remains the same."

Silas handed the tablet back. "Location?"

"We were unable to confirm anything before the image was scrubbed, but we have no reason to believe they've left the Jasper area, sir. The background is consistent with local geology."

"And the Darbys?"

"Location unchanged. We're ready to begin surveillance on your order, sir."

Silas considered, then shook his head. If his agents were spotted, it might drive the mechanoids to take a more active hand in thwarting M.E.C.H., a situation that he wold prefer to avoid for the time being.

Things had not been progressing as well as he'd hoped, and Silas was still kicking himself for not keeping Starscream and taking him apart when he'd had the chance. Once he'd conceded that building their own mechanoid was going poorly, he'd thought that they'd be able to lay hands on something a bit more to Silas's own tastes, like Breakdown or even a member of the Autobots. But it seemed the taking of first Bumblebee, then Starscream, had rendered both sides more cautious in the field. The most they had been able to collect was an arm that had been left behind, encased in the webbing that Silas recognized as Airachnid's trademark.

But Silas was a patient man. With time, another opportunity would present itself.

* * *

 

"You got the pictures?"

"Of _course_ I got the pictures. You think I'd give you this if I didn't? There it is, clear as day, driving all by itself. If you look closely, you can see the kid in the back seat. So, what's the plan?"

"I've got how they scrub worked out, I think. So, this time... we make sure the picture stays up until they make contact."

"... are you sure this is a good idea? You say what they did to Jasper. Maybe getting their attention isn't, y'know..."

"Life is risk. You with me?"

"Always."


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There are people like Raf out in the world, and he'd like to meet them. Also, Knock Out is a twenty foot tall gadfly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know diddly squat about programming and code. Leave me alone. Raf and his way with computers is practically magic, lets just assume that he can't properly articulate what exactly he's seeing and doing and go with it, mmkay?.

Raf wasn't sure which was the worst part: that his hair was clearly visible in the picture, or Knock Out's running commentary.

"Don't you have anything else you could be doing?" Jack asked, sparing Raf from the need to snap at the twenty foot tall gadfly.

Knock Out tapped a talon against his chin and hummed. "Ground bridge is up, our pathetic attempt at a medbay is as good as it's going to get, I'm not allowed on patrols until I, and I quote, 'stop trying to race everything on four wheels that catches my optics'. No one's injured, Ratchet's on monitor duty and threatened me with a wrench if I came anywhere near, and I'd sooner strip Wheeljack's junk pile for parts than try and repair it. So... no."

The picture Raf had been fighting with disappeared before popping right back up, stubbornly refusing to be replaced with the gif of a cow abducting a little green man.

"What about the clean up?" Miko suggested. She was sulking; Bulkhead had been conscripted for tunnel construction, and she had been forbidden from 'helping'. And for once, the 'no' was being enforced.

"More Breakdown's bailiwick than mine." Knock Out examined his talons, fanning them wide. "Until they've finished shoring up the walls, I'd just be one more thing in the way."

Raf tried again. For one happy moment, the image of himself and Bumblebee winked out of existence.

Then it was back. Mocking him.

He wanted to scream.

Coding came as easily to Raf as breathing. He could make binary dance to his tune. He understood it in his _marrow_.

Why couldn't he scrub this one _stupid_ -

Something flashed out at him within the code. Something that whispered _chase me_.

Raf stared at it, half expecting it to blink out of existence, a hallucination brought on by stress. But no, there it stayed. Waiting for him.

"Did the picture break him?" Knock Out asked, almost sounding genuinely concerned.

"Whoever put it up wants me to... follow them." Raf quickly isolated the bit of code, bringing it up so the others could see.

Only Knock Out showed any sign of comprehension. Raf did his best not to let his disappointment in Jack and Miko's blank stares show. Pointing to the screen, he said, "That's basically a... a road map. Telling me where to find him out there on the internet."

"Could be a trap," Jack pointed out. "The Decepticons."

"Not really Soundwave's style." Knock Out cocked his head to one side. "If Makeshift were still functional, I'd suspect him, but..." He hummed softly. "Decepticon pride would keep them from doing something like this unless they were desperate. And they'd be giving you a physical address, not just an on-line one." He smirked. "All the better to kidnap you from. No, if I were a betting mech... I'd say this is human."

Raf's fingers itched to be back at the keyboard, a single thought running through his head.

_This isn't just human. This is someone like **me**._

"So what are you waiting for?" Miko shoved Raf's shoulder. "Go get 'em."

"It _could_ still be a trap." And there was Jack, the eternal optimist.

Raf didn't have to think about it. Not really. "The longer I wait, the longer the pic stays up."

It was time to chase.

* * *

 

"Sir? I've got something you're going to want to see."


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Breakdown and Knock Out execute a plan, and Raf makes a friend.

"All clear." Breakdown extended a servo to Knock Out. No humans. No Ratchet. Arcee, Bulkhead, and Bumblebee were on babysitting detail, Ultra Magnus was out scouting in his ship, Wheeljack and Smokescreen were caught up in the same distraction that had drawn Ratchet away, and the Prime was off doing whatever Primes did when not taking up vast amounts of space within the base. No one tossing around lob balls or cleaning weapons or tinkering with anything-

Knock Out let Breakdown pull him close, a smile playing across his face. " _Finally!_ "

Breakdown ex-vented slowly, off lining his optic. Knock Out's clever digits skittered across his chassis, seeking out sensitive transformation seams. He closed his claw around Knock Out's waist, backing him towards the medbay. "Table?"

" _Table._ " Knock Out caressed the lights at Breakdown's hips, lower lip caught between his denta. Breakdown lifted him off his pedes, high enough that he could rest his helm against Knock Out's. The medical berth might have been more comfortable, but _that_ was wired too all kinds of alerts that would ping Ratchet at the slightest change. They had worked too hard at arranging their little distraction to have the old medic come running back.

They almost fell over the table in their haste. The legs scraped across the concrete floor with a screech that made both bots pause, listening. Had anyone heard? Was someone going to come investigate?

Knock Out hooked a leg around Breakdown's hips, turning his helm with a servo. "C'mon, we don't have long."

Breakdown huffed against Knock Out's servo, grinning. "Yeah, yeah, just-" He nipped at the wrist joint, his good servo sliding down Knock Out's chassis.

Optimus had the good sense to reset his vocalizer loudly, the hanger doors open just a crack. Breakdown swore quietly.

Knock Out felt no such need, loudly speculating about just how far up his aft Optimus's helm was lodged.

Breakdown nipped at his neck, cutting off Knock Out's tirade. He still unwound the leg from his hips. "Later."

Knock Out slide resentfully off the table. "After I die of overclocking," he snapped. "Alright, we're decent."

"A bigger lie I've never heard." Breakdown whispered right in his audial. Knock Out slapped his chassis with the back of his servo; if _he_ had to behave, the so did Breakdown.

Optimus managed to radiate mild disapproval without seeming particularly judgmental. Breakdown suspected that it was a skill he'd picked up thanks to long association with Bulkhead. Knock Out was nowhere near as impressed, and he opted to make that known by pointedly slapping Breakdown's aft.

"Looking for something, big bot?" Knock Out asked innocently.

"I was planing to update the archives, as Ratchet is currently occupied with removing Smokescreen from the Jackhammer."

Optimus didn't ask how Smokescreen had managed to get half phased through the Jackhammer. He didn't ask where the phase shifter was, either.

Breakdown hoped any lecture that might be coming would wait until Knock Out had cooled down a bit.

Optimus took up position at the console, stooping slightly so he could type. For a moment, Breakdown felt a twinge of pity for the Prime. _Nothing_ on this world was built to his massive scale. Even within their own base, everything was too small for him, from the computers to his own berth. He'd seen how Optimus half hung off the largest berth they'd been able to put together, in the ridiculously cramped dormitory they all recharged in.

"Stay?"

"Mm. Drive." Knock Out transformed and sped away, and Breakdown followed.

* * *

 

Raf knew he had to wait until the house was completely silent, as hard as it was. Bumblebee was waiting for him outside, just down the street, and all he wanted to do was go out there and talk to him. But if he moved too soon, he'd be seen.

Worst of all, he'd be seen by _Pilar_. Her window faced the street, and somehow he didn't think twenty bucks a week would keep her quiet about him sneaking out.

Raf pressed his ear to the wall.

The show tunes had dropped to a dull roar in the last hour, switching from bombast and murder to cats singing about nostalgia.

Raf drummed his fingers against the wall and tried to will Pilar to sleep.

Finally, _finally_ , the music shut off. Raf held his breath, still waiting. Was she going to sleep? Was she going to inflict another round of _I Feel Pretty_ at a dark and uncaring night? Was she waiting for something?

Silence reigned.

With a relieved sigh, Raf grabbed his laptop and slipped out his window, racing across the street and right into the waiting Bumblebee.

"Hey, Raf! What took so long?"

"I had to wait till everyone was asleep." Raf settled into the back seat, tucking his feet beneath him and cracking open the laptop.

"So tell me what I missed!" Bumblebee vibrated with excitement. "If your new friend actually friendly? Where're they at? How much do they know?"

Raf laughed. "Slow it down, Bee. Is this a conversation or an interrogation? Lycaenidae seems pretty okay... even with the name... I think. I mean, it _could_ be a trick, so it's not like I'm giving out personal details or anything."

They'd both thrown up so many layers of encryption and hidden behind so many proxies that it had taken them forever to actually _talk_.

_**lycaenidae:** i like the cat gif best_  
_**SpEEdStrypeS** : Gonna remember that next time_  
_**lycaenidae** : does there have to be a next time?_

"I'm pretty sure he's from Jasper." Raf sent out a ping. He wasn't sure if he wanted it answered or not, but...

This was someone like him. Twenty minutes of back and forth before he'd been forced to meet Pilar, and Raf was sure this wasn't just someone _smart_. No, this guy saw things the way Raf did. He was _sure_ of it.

"And...?"

"And he knows the evacuation was a cover up. And he knows you guys have been around for a while."

Bumblebee added, "And he knows about you."

Raf shifted uncomfortably. "He reached out to me. I think... I think he's lonely."

There was no direct translation for what Bumblebee said then. If humanity had a word that meant understanding, commiseration, and deep rooted sorrow all at once, Raf had never heard it. Raf knew he was missing some of the subtler nuances; Cybertronians relied almost as much on electromagnetic fields as on vocalization to communicate, just like humans and body language. And Raf was only dimly aware of those fields, like a tickle at the back of his neck.

But all that mattered was that Bee _understood._

"I hope he is a friend."

The laptop beeped.

 **lycaenidae:** its 1 in the morning go to sleep  
**SpEEdStrypE:** Why are *you* awake?  
**lycaenidae:** reasons  
**lycaenidae:** you with your friend?  
**SpEEdStrypE:** ?  
**lycaenidae:** dont play dumb  
**SpEEdStrypE:** Does it matter?  
**lycaenidae:** nah. gonna sleep  
**SpEEdStrypE:** School tomorrow?

No reply.

Raf shut off the laptop.

Bumblebee gently opened a door in a not at all subtle hint. "You should go recharge. I'll be right here if you need me."

Raf pressed his hand to Bumblebee's side as he got out. "Thanks Bee. See ya... after school, I guess."

"We'll work it out, Raf, don't worry."


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Breakdown vs Bulkhead, Silas wants to know what it is about Jasper that attracts all the weirdness, and Raf has an idea.

There was a steadily growing pile of equipment behind Breakdown. Each much needed bit of technology, every tool, had been hastily moved out of Bulkhead's reach while the Wrecker paced and growled at Agent Fowler.

Breakdown had caught on to Bulkhead's habit of breaking things when he was angry, or not paying attention, or just making a point, and had quickly turned himself to saving the Autobots meager resources as best he could. It was a war of attrition; sooner or later, Bulkhead would get his hands on _something_ , and it would go _crunch_.

Breakdown, who had centuries of experience dealing with superior officers with the same bad habit, did his best to put several solutions in place; what could be stored away was, and what _couldn't_ was moved out of the way whenever Bulkhead was in one of his moods. If it came down to it, Breakdown could put himself between Bulkhead and one of the computers. _He_ could take the hit.

"Well what do you expect _me_ to do? Send in the Special Forces to make a little girl stop being mean to her brother?" Fowler threw his hands up, clearly as frustrated as Bulkhead. "We've got bigger problems! I've got Bryce breathing down my neck, possible MECH infiltration, and our ever present Decepticon issue!"

"We can _handle_ the Decepticons-"

Bulkhead's servo was closing around a micro welder. There would be no replacing _that_ for ages, and Primus help them if anyone needed cabling repairs in the meantime. Breakdown snatched it away seconds before disaster, cradling it to his chassis.

"-we always do..." Bulkhead trailed off, finally noticing Breakdown for the first time. He looked at the micro welder, then at Breakdown.

"We need this," Breakdown said, carefully adding it to the pile of rescued equipment.

Bulkhead grimaced. "I'm gonna... I'm gonna go pick up the kids."

Breakdown waited until Bulkhead was out of the hanger to start putting things back, quietly vocalizing his annoyance with not only Bulkhead but with the medics. Yes, storage space was even _more_ limited than it had been before, but one would think _Ratchet_ , who had been working with Bulkhead for years, would have picked up better habits.

The human was watching him.

"You're... pretty good at this."

Fowler rarely made an effort to address Breakdown, preferring to deal with those who had always been Autobots.

"At least Bulkhead doesn't throw things."

Fowler actually laughed.

* * *

 

Silas spread the reports out on his desk, drumming his fingers on the institutionally green painted metal.

The two agents they had within Unit E were all but useless at the moment. Whatever Fowler and Bryce knew, they kept it in the one place the agents couldn't access: their heads.

Progress on the other projects remained equally slow. Infiltration and subversion of key projects took time, especially for the most worthwhile ones. There was a laboratory outside of Jasper that was doing fascinating things with nanotechnology. He pulled the report on the lab personnel to him, looking for _something_ he could use.

If he couldn't go _big_ , he'd go small.

"What is it about Jasper..." Silas mused aloud. Things kept drawing him back there, over and over. The mechanoids, the nanites... and the code monkey with the pictures.

He wanted him, whoever he was. He wanted those skills for MECH, and if he couldn't have them...

Well. Accidents happened all the time. It would be a shame to snuff out so bright a light, but he couldn't have someone so adept at giving his men the virtual run around acting as a free agent, now could he?

A picture in the report on the laboratory caught Silas's eye, and he found himself smiling for the first time in ages. A blurry candid photo of two doctors eating lunch together, the woman perched on a desk while the man sprawled in a chair. Older than they'd been when he'd last seen them, but still familiar.

Things were looking up.

* * *

 

Another week, another twenty.

Raf passed it off to Pilar with a grumble before Bulkhead picked him up. Gruoch was waiting outside that morning, probably to play enforcer if Raf didn't pay up. They didn't stick around; Gruoch had a little green scooter, and Pilar hopped on the back with barely a word to Raf.

Watching them putter down the street, Raf thought Gruoch looked ridiculously oversized for the scooter, and Pilar ridiculously overdressed for high school.

Bulkhead roared right past them, but neither girl paid him or Miko any mind.

At least Pilar didn't try to ride with them to school after the first day.

"Hey Raf." Bulkhead's tone was warm, friendly, and clearly concerned. He even turned Miko's music down to a dull roar for him. "How ya doin'?"

Raf shrugged a shoulder and buckled in. "I'm okay."

"Punch Her Highness in the face yet?" Miko asked, pounding her fist into her palm for emphasis. At some point, Miko had decided that Pilar's always styled hair and attempts at aping vintage styles meant that she was a prissy, bathroom hogging princess. Raf didn't have the heart to tell her that Marisol had been far, far _worse_ (and that Raf was _so_ glad that Marisol had moved into the dorms last fall, so he only had to fight for the bathroom on holidays).

"I'm not gonna punch Pilar in the face."

Pilar hit back. And she was a biter.

" _I_ could punch her in the face," Miko suggested. "I'm not afraid of her _or_ Big Red."

" _No_ , Miko."

"You can't just let this keep on!" Miko crossed her arms. "You gotta... you gotta fight! Or she's gonna keep walking all over you!"

"Miko's right, Raf. You can't just knuckle under for any Bully who comes your way."

"Most bullies can't get me grounded for life." They drove past Gruoch and Pilar on the little scooter, and something clicked in his head. "But maybe..."

"Yeah?" Miko leaned over in his seat, putting a hand on Raf's shoulder.

"How do you feel about a little scouting?"


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Silas pays an old friend a visit, and Raf gathers intelligence.

There was something about a supermarket that rubbed Silas the wrong way. A well stocked store implied a level of softness and ease that he loathed. A thousand and one easy choices, just reach out and grab that brightly colored crap from the shelf-

He shook himself. Now was not the time to ruminate over the decline of western culture.

He had an old friend to catch up with.

Inez was in the cereal isle, stretching to reach a box on the top shelf and failing terribly.

Silas allowed himself a moment to study his target. Even after all these years, Inez was still a doll like woman, tiny and delicate looking. But Silas knew that beneath the neat little sweater set, she was whipcord and bone and gristle. She still kept her hair -- greying now -- cut to her chin and held back by a headband that matched her blouse. Her shoes were flat and sensible, but not the boots that Silas knew that she was far more comfortable with. The only bit of jewelry she wore was a simple silver cross-- even her fingers were clear of rings, though Silas knew she'd been married almost as long as she'd been in the country.

Silas had driven them to Las Vegas himself.

"Leland."

Silas allowed himself a smile. "Hello, Inez." He reached up and pulled down the box she'd been reaching for. He held it out to her, giving it a teasing shake.

Inez didn't return his smile, but she'd _never_ been one for smiling. She'd expounded at length more than once on her distrust of anyone and anything that smiled very much. She still took the box, dropping it into her cart. "What are you doing here?"

"I wanted to talk."

Inez pushed the cart past Silas. "If you wish to talk about that ridiculous satellite again, I suggest a blog. I understand those are very popular these days."

Silas strolled alongside Inez, one hand resting lightly on the cart. "I was thinking more about Santa Marta. About revolution."

Inez paused only to pull boxes of granola bars into the cart. "And since when have you been one for nostalgia?"

Silas looked down at Inez, running a finger down his crooked nose, brushing the scar that ran across his face.

"You are not, I hope, expecting an apology."

"Never."

Inez took a turn, leading them down a long isle of sodas.

"Things are coming, Inez. The things we used to talk about. Revolution."

Inez sucked her teeth. "Always with the revolutions. Revolutions are for children, Leland. I should think you would have learned that by now."

Silas grabbed the side of the cart, making Inez stop. He leaned in close, close enough that he could smell the soap she used. "Can you honestly tell me you're _happy_ like this? Filling a cart with this garbage, playing happy home maker? Giving up your work, your soul, to some government lab that barely pays you enough to support your family? I _know_ you, Inez." He slowly slid a hand over hers. "You want to burn the world down and build something better on the ashes."

Inez never broke eye contact with Silas. Not when she covered his hand with her own. Not when she dug her nails into his wrist and pulled his hand away.

"I do not want to see you here again, Leland. You will not approach me again with this." She dug her nails in a little deeper. "You will not approach Estiban with this foolishness. You _will_ crawl back to the hole you hide in, yes? And I will pretend I never saw you. Yes?"

Silas didn't wince, and he didn't struggle. He nodded once, and was rewarded with his freedom.

They didn't say goodbye.

He might not get the mind behind it, but Silas _would_ have her work. One way or another.

* * *

 

Arcee puled up beside Bulkhead and Bumblebee in the parking lot, deactivating her hologram. Jack was at her side immediately, followed by Raf. After three days of on and off surveillance, she was ready to report her suspicions, and Raf was clearly eager to receive them.

Miko had lost all interest in the plan once she realized that it mostly consisted of sitting quietly and watching, and that she and Bulk wouldn't be taking part anyway. They were just too big for covert surveillance. Even Bumblebee's help had been limited to the occasional drive by.

"Find anything interesting?" Miko asked, despite her clear disinterest. She stayed sprawled on Bulkhead's hood, hands pillowed behind her head and staring up at the sky.

"Maybe. I need some clarification first."

It had taken Arcee almost a full day to work out what it was that was off about the house. It sat empty from the time Gruoch left for school until she returned with Pilar. From then onward, the humans behaved much the way Raf, Miko, and Jack did. They played games and watched movies, ate and sometimes did homework. Pilar, Arcee noted, seemed to have a particular fascination with her companion's hair, twisting and piling it into elaborate configurations before promptly taking it down.

At the appointed hour, Pilar left to meet with Raf, and Gruoch puttered around the house. She cleaned, she turned on the TV, she played around on her computer, and she fell asleep.

It was by the time the routine started again that Arcee realized what was bothering her.

No one else came or went from the house.

If her time with Jack had taught Arcee anything, it was that _that_ was not normal for a child. Even at her busiest, June always managed to at least _call_ Jack.

The second day went almost exactly like the first, with only a pizza delivery being the major deviation.

Still no adults.

The third day proved much the same, and Arcee was ready to take her suspicions to the kids.

"What do you know about Gruoch's family?"

Raf was silent as he considered the question. "Um... not... huh." He pulled off his glasses and wiped them on his shirt, something Arcee had seen him do when he was puzzled and stalling for time.

"I think she lives with a cousin or something," Jack offered. "She.... yeah, she's only been here a couple years. Vince tried to make fun of her for it. She, uh, broke his nose," he added.

"Well, if she's still living with that cousin, he hasn't been around for a few days."

That got Miko's attention. "So they've got an adult free crash pad?"

"Could just be out of town for a while," Jack countered. "Three days may not mean anything."

"Can they _do_ that?" Bulkhead asked.

Raf's expression was odd, and there was something almost unnerving about the way he said, "They shouldn't. Mama would have a fit if she knew."

Bumblebee asked Raf what he wanted to do. Raf was quiet for several minutes, resting a hand on Bumblebee's side.

"I think I need to talk to Pilar."


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Raf puts his plan into action, MECH has a lead, and nurses have bonding time.

The lawn was brown and crispy, but so were most of the lawns in the neighborhood. At least it wasn't overgrown the way most of them also were. If Raf had to guess, he'd say half the houses on the street had been abandoned after Megatron's invasion.

There was movement inside -- Pilar and Gruoch. And no one else.

Jack and Miko were at his back, and Arcee, Bumblebee, and Bulkhead were just down the street. Raf hoped he wouldn't need _any_ of them ( _really_ hoped he wouldn't need the Autobots)... but it was nice to know that they had his back.

He kinda wanted to talk to Lycaenidae about it, but that might be giving away too much about himself. He wasn't ready to go there, not yet.

Jack squeezed his shoulder. "You got this."

Raf inhaled deeply, let it out, and rang the bell.

The movement inside stopped. Raf waited.

"Ring it again," Miko hissed, reaching for the doorbell. Jack smacked her hand away.

Raf kept his eye on the peephole. The light was blocked briefly, and the door opened to reveal Gruoch, made even taller by the way her long red hair had been slicked up into a fauxhawk in defiance of all the laws of gravity. "Rafael?" She crouched, brows drawing together as she looked him over. "What happened? Are you okay? Pilar-!"

"I'm fine," Raf said quickly, taken by surprise by Gruoch's obvious concern. "Everything's fine. I just... Can I talk to Pilar?"

Gruoch stood, nodded, and stepped aside. "Pilar? It's _Raf_."

"Is something wrong?"

"He says not. He brought the rest of the, uh, computer club."

The living room was a lot like the yard; not neat, not well cared for, but what Jack called 'clean-enough' when they were mucking out their part of the Autobot base; good enough that no one would complain about the mess. The furniture was old and hard used, and half the cushions were piled on the floor. The TV, in stark contrast, was _very_ new, and so were the game systems scattered around it. _Wheels of Fire_ was paused on the screen, and Pilar still had a controller in her hand. She pushed her glasses up her nose, glancing from Raf to Jack and Miko, then back to Raf. "Wow. The whole computer club. To what do we owe the pleasure?"

Behind them, the door closed. No quick exit.

"I wanted to talk to you. About our... arrangement."

Miko smacked her fist into her palm. "And how it's coming to an end."

Pilar smirked back at her. "Is that so? And what, pray tell, is going to cause _that_?"

Raf was _very_ aware of how Gruoch was standing just behind Miko; he could see her reflected in the TV, chin lowered and combing her fingers through her hair to bring it down. In front of him, Pilar was still smirking.

"Because if _you_ tell Mama we're not hanging out, _I'll_ tell her that Gruoch's living alone."

The smirk withered and died, replaced by something hard and angry. Raf heard Gruoch inhale sharply, but he couldn't really read her expression in the reflection.

His heart was _pounding_ , but he had to see this through. Stuffing shaking hands into his pockets, he mimicked Pilar's slouch. "I'm not giving you any more money, and you're gonna leave us _alone_. We'll still meet at the same time when we go home, but that's _it_. Okay?"

Pilar was _quiet_ , and that had Raf worried. Pilar yelling, flouncing, being dramatic, that was normal. He could deal. Pilar being quiet meant trouble. Meant she was _really_ angry.

She looked like she wanted to strangle him.

Pilar tore her eyes from Raf's to look beyond him, to Gruoch.

"Pilar."

Was... was Gruoch pleading? Raf didn't dare look, afraid any movement might break the spell and set Pilar off.

Pilar's gaze came back to Raf. "Mutually assured destruction," she said, rolling the words around like she was tasting them. "Right. Agreed. I keep my mouth shut, and so do you."

Miko pumped her fist in the air. "Sweet! In your face!"

Jack hissed at Miko to shut up, and Pilar didn't seem impressed with her obvious delight. " _All_ of you," she amended.

Raf bit back a 'thank you'. "Right."

"Is there anything else?" Pilar didn't bother with the sugary malice Raf expected, just flat dismissal.

Raf shook his head. There really want's anything left to say.

* * *

 

 

Breakdown did not, as a rule, have much to do with the children. They had their guardians, and their interests that rarely intersected with Breakdown or his duties. Nor did he speak much with Agent Fowler. They understood each other well enough, but they weren't _familiar._

The one human he spoke to regularly, _who actively sought him out_ , curiously enough, was June Darby.

It started entirely by accident, and it was all Smokescreen's fault. Despite Knock Out's orders that he stay in the berth, the racer had been bound and determined to stand on a pair of knees that were still in the process of healing. It had fallen to Breakdown to keep him in place, making use of both his considerable bulk and his years of practice to manhandle Smokescreen back into the berth without making his injuries worse.The children had found Breakdown lifting Smokescreen by the waist and carrying him back hilarious, but June had watched with interest.

"I wish I could do that."

"Wouldn't actually work on anyone much bigger," Breakdown had admitted, "Or someone who could _kick_."

June's commiserating groan had been heartfelt and genuine. "Is it really a universal constant? Trying to prove how touch they are by pretending they aren't hurt?"

Breakdown's profoundly annoyed " _Yes_!" sealed the deal.

Somehow, June managed to arrange a little time to chat with Breakdown whenever her visits coincided with him being there.

 

"Now, _I_ could never marry a doctor. Their hours are _almost_ as bad as mine, and God forbid you tell them when they're wrong."

Breakdown snorted. "Medic programming. Makes 'em high strung and snippy, and all their protocols tell 'em the only people who know their skid plate from their elbow are other medics. And _then_ they dump the wounded patient on _us_ , and _then_ they complain because we do something _they_ didn't think of."

June groaned. "We're the ones there in the ward. Doctor sees the patient for maybe ten minutes. Everything else is on _us_."

"Sometimes all you can do is smile, nod, and do what'll _actually_ work."

"Not that they notice!" they chorused.

They were still chuckling over the faults and follies of doctors when Knock Out rolled in. He cast a suspicious glance their way, slinking into the lab and snatching up a data pad.

"Of course, if more doctors were gorgeous redheads that came with Aston Martins, I _might_ make an exception." June teased. "Even if it is a little high maintenance."

Breakdown's engine rumbled. "The maintenance is half the fun."

 

* * *

 

 

**SpEEdStrypE** : You there?  
**lycaenidae** : busy  
**SpEEdStrypE** : With?  
**lycaenidae** : important project  
**SpEEdStrypE** : Anything I can help with?  
**lycaenidae** : no  
**lycaenidae** : go away  
**lycaenidae** : go play with your friends

* * *

 

"Sir, I think we've got something."

Silas didn't bother to look up from the blueprints spread out on his desk. "Yes?"

"The hacker's on the move again. We're tracing him now, we'll have a back door into his system within the hour."

"What's he doing?" Silas asked, curiosity drawing him away from blueprints and attack plans for the moment.

"We're not sure. At the moment, he just seems to be altering school records at random."

"I want a list of all the records altered and what's been changed. Carry on."

"Yes, sir!"


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Raf has bigger problems, and Breakdown wants some payback.

It was almost a month before Pilar did more than grunt at Raf, and he didn't mind one bit. And he didn't mind the way, the few times they crossed paths, Gruoch watched him with obvious fear. It didn't bother him _at all_. It wasn't his fault her cousin got mad about her having people over or whatever.

He had bigger problems.

In the month they'd been Not Talking, the Decepticons had rolled out a freaking _dragon_ , Miko had stolen the Apex armor from Starscream, Knock Out had threatened to 'clang Breakdown in the middle of what passes for downtown in this Primus forsaken dust bowl' if they didn't get the underground base livable _yesterday_.... and Lycaenidae was doing something that had Raf scared for him.

**lycaenidae** : someone got into my system  
**lycaenidae** : guessing it wasn't you  
**lycaenidae** : too clumsy. gotta get them out  
**lycaenidae** : help me?

Raf hadn't even hesitated. He _liked_ Lycaenidae; he got Raf's jokes, he understood what Raf was talking about without him having to dumb it down, and Raf wanted to know him better.

**SpEEdStrypeS** : Sure. Let me in?

It was a huge show of trust, but Raf didn't have time to enjoy it.

Lycaenidae might not have recognized MECH's slimy fingerprints all over that back door.

Between the two of them, they _should_ have been able to root MECH out.

Should.

Maybe if they'd had better computers. Raf was mostly working on a hand-me-down laptop; even Ratchet had been able to soup it up only so much, and the computers in the hanger weren't much better.

Raf knew Lycaenidae's computer was really good, but it was strictly what he could buy in a store.

Whatever MECH had was enough to make Raf green with envy.

It was brains vs hardware, but Team Brains was about to score big. Raf had found their newest base.

So Raf was _busy_. It was like the whole world was bearing down on him, and Pilar's silence suited him just fine.

Of course, Pilar decided to break the silence by barging into his room while he was trying to shovel everything into his backpack.

"We need to talk."

Raf grunted, trying to find space for his laptop amongst his textbooks and homework. "Kinda busy."

"I know, but this is-"

Raf's head snapped up. "No, it _isn't_. I've got bigger problems and than you and your - your drama! So how about we go back to ignoring each other, and you _go away_?"

He regretted the words the moment they were out of his mouth, but it was too late. Pilar's face went cold, her mouth hard. "Fine. I'm spending the night at Gruoch's. Mama already knows."

"Pilar, I-"

She'd already shut the door behind her.

Raf finished zipping up his backpack and grabbed his raincoat. The forecast called for storms that evening.

* * *

 

Breakdown wasn't a mech who held grudges, typically. Not anymore. He sometimes joked that his longstanding rivalry with Bulkhead had taken up all the space his processor could have alotted for grudges, leaving him a surprisingly amiable mech off the battlefield.

It was a trait that had served him well over the years, both as a Decepticon and as an Autobot. He'd managed the transition into Team Prime easier than the ever prickly Knock Out, even managing to come to an understanding with Bulkhead that mostly involved them staying as far from each other as the base would allow. He treated it just like any other time he and Knock Out had moved posts, and it worked. Yes, they had been enemies, faced each other across many battlefields over the centuries, but they could and did work together, and work reasonably well. Even Bulkhead, who'd driven him down the path his life had taken in the first place.

But there was one group, one _man_ Breakdown was not prepared to forgive.

MECH.

_Silas._

And now the Prime was denying him a golden opportunity to finally get his own back!

"You don't know 'em like I do!" Bulkhead growled, claw pointing to the screens. The humans had gotten lucky, caught MECH's trail through the human who had posted pictures, and followed them 'home'. Now they had a physical location, but they had to act _nowI_ say we nuke the site from orbit," Wheeljack added.

Breakdown bared his denta. "Not. Helping."

"And I need you here," Optimus insisted gently.

There was, obviously, going to be no further argument. Breakdown felt a rare bubble of resentment rise in his spark; even the _humans_ were going, but he was being confined to base like an untrusted sparkling.

Raf and Miko's presences, he understood. The smallest of the humans had a gift for worming his way into systems, and Optimus wanted _everything_ he could get from MECH, while Miko in the Apex armor had gone from being an occasionally useful nuisance to a genuine threat to any bot that got in her way.

Breakdown wasn't sure what Jack's purpose was. A distraction, perhaps, or a good luck charm.

Rain rattled against the roof as the Autobots and their human charges rolled out, leavubg.

* * *

 

The problem with going up against people like MECH was that, no matter how smart you were, they had years more experience. Despite the distraction of the Autobots, someone had realized that Raf had gotten into their computers and promptly shut everything down. That left Raf doing the one thing still open to him: listening in on their communications network.

What he heard filled him with dread.

_"We have a location on designation Lycaenidae. Proceeding with asset acquisition."_

_"Standard operation protocols. Predicting mechanoid interference. Scrubbing site Sierra, rendezvous at site Yankee."_

_"Copy that. Over and out."_

Raf was typing before they even finished talking, sending out a ping that he hoped would be answered. "Ratchet, Optimus-!"

"We heard, Rafael," Ratchet assured him over Bumblebee's comm. "Patch me in to your friend."

**lycaenidae** : ??  
**SpEEdStrypeS** Bad guys coming your way, get out!  
**lycaenidae** : not alone, with a friend, can't just leave  
**Ratchet:** We're sending someone for you both.

Raf could practically hear Ratchet's irritation, even as his wifi connection was abruptly cut off by Bumblebee scooping him up, transforming around him while Miko stood between them and the MECH agents, their bullets bouncing off her armor. Jack scrambled into Bee, and they sped away. Jack helped Raf into the seatbelt even as he fought to reconnect his battered laptop to the signal.

"Trust Ratchet to handle it," Bee said. "We're getting out of here."


End file.
